


Eres

by baeberiibungh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alive Hale Family, Excessive Swearing, M/M, More tags to follow, Poor Derek, Poor Stiles, Ratings may change in the future, Slow Burn, Swearing, WIP, chaotic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5729623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chaos reign supreme. And Stiles just can’t catch a break!</p><p> </p><p>(The one about the werewolf courtship of one very very accident prone 'human'...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a bad fucking day for Stiles _OK_. His homework literally got chewed up by a stray dog, a big huge hulking fucking stray dog in the middle of Beacon Hills, go figure that out. His jeep got three, yes, three fucking flat within the duration of one fucking day. Scott is mooning over Allison again so deeply that he forgot to give Stiles the lift he promised during class and so he got stranded at school and his mobile, his fucking mobile of course had no charge at all, how fucking fitting. 

So he had trudged home, his just finished homework in stray papers shoved carelessly into a back pocket of the bag, which is how the dog, the big ass motherfuck of a dog, made away with it, possibly in a bid to get at food that Stiles may or may not have been stashing for some really bad day. And of course, the chocolate bar was not there when he had searched later, sitting on the steps outside the house, too tired to even go inside. His dad had double shifts so would not be coming till late morning, well past after Stiles had left for class maybe.

Giving a defeated sigh, Stiles picked up his bag and went inside. He was hungry but did not feel like making anything. So putting his bag on the kitchen table, Stiles poured a glass of orange juice and promptly crashed the glass and it’s full content on to the floor from his slippery hands. Stiles put his head in his hands, gave a wheeze of a scream and just headed to his room. Maybe sleep will do him some good, maybe sleeping the day off with take away whatever curse whichever witch laid on him.

So Stiles went to him room and fell face first onto his bed, thoroughly dejected with the way the whole day had gone. He also wished his dad were home, he might have made Stiles some hot chocolate and fussed a bit about him. It is at times like this that Stiles would remember his mother, dead almost a decade by now, and how she would keep snacks for him to come have from school. He had felt very much loved those days and he knew he was a happy kid then as well. Now though, now he did not feel happy nor felt the need to be outright happy as well.

Some days, it felt as if things will never go right for Stiles, some days it felt like life was going in one direction and Stiles was stumbling helplessly in another. Some days, Stiles just felt so tired and small and young and old at the same time that it didn’t even make sense. Those days were the worst, when his alderall did not seem to work, when his head seem to get loopy from his own thoughts and when even Scott flinched away from his word vomit and ceaseless cry for attention.

Stiles knew, Stile knew that he got annoying then, so annoying that even his own father grimaced at the nonstop storm of words, of sounds that seemed to emit from Stiles on such days. When his teachers tried to not look towards him, when they made faces at the lack of thought of the tandem thoughts that passed through Stiles’s mind and those that he sought to give voice to because it became so full, so full in his lonesome head. He usually managed on his own, Stiles usually got to stop his mouth mouthing off, but some days even he did not succeed.

Today had been not that kind of bad day, but bad nonetheless. His thoughts still clamoured for attention, but he could keep them at bay for now. Stiles turned on his back, looking at the ceiling still containing some of the stars that Claudia had glued onto the ceiling at Stiles’ behest and wondered what he was doing with his life. Sure, his marks were OK, his social life has not seen any ups lately but no swirlies from Jackson either so that was a plus. Scott would soon come over for games and pizza so he had the friendship thing pat down, so long as he hadn’t forgotten about that too.

Stiles rubbed his hands on the cool sheets that for some unfathomable reason he had changed in the morning, buoyed by a sense of optimistic change coming, most probably because Lydia and Jackson had just broken up, again and it was such a golden opportunity for Stiles to make his move, so long as he can decide for sure what his moves were going to be. Flowers were too tacky for Lydia, chocolate only for applied occasions and Stiles had all those occasion memorised. Anything else had to be vetoed from the long list of stuff that Lydia liked and did not like and even the thought of that seemed too much for Stiles right then. 

So he turned on his side this time, and saw a shadowy blur by his window, that was on the first floor and the sun was up enough that shadow that dense and large should not fall anywhere near Stiles window from anything at that moment. Stiles picked up his head from his pillow, his hands wrapped around another one by his chest and by all that was holy and sound, there fucking stood, stood on its fucking hindlegs with the paws on the edge of the window, and Stiles’ homework in its mouth the huge dog that had eaten his brand new finished homework. 

The dog gave an unimpressed huff at Stiles, slid its head inside and let the papers fall from its’ definitely slobbery mouth before turning with a jaunty wave from it’s very bushy tail and disappearing. A silent scream left Stiles’ mouth as he got up and hopped to his window, still clutching one pillow in his hand as he peered from this side to the other to find the big fucking dog that had stolen from him and then had returned his shit. Stiles bent down, and yes, it was his homework all right, all crushed and dirty at places, with one perfect paw print on one page. 

Wondering if he had hallucinated the whole thing out of a depressive episode, Stiles stared out of his window and turned only after getting mildly startled by a very gruff bark in the distance. It had just not been a good day Stiles attested again as he fell onto his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day started with Scott pleading profusely to forgive him for leaving Stiles stranded at school when he had already promised him that lift. Stiles let him stew on for a bit. He was not mad at yesterday’s incident anymore but he was a bit pissed at how easily Scott seemed to just forget that his best friend existed whenever Allison was around. And hey, he is not jealous or anything or hates Scott’s girlfriend, but Stiles thinks that Scott at least owes him a couple of pizza and game nights for abandoning him so.

Classes drudge on with the delightful slowness of a limp snail that is perhaps an octogenarian in snail years. Harris snipes and sneers, Coach screams and screeches, Ms. Martin singsongs and the rest follow the usual pattern of usualness. Lunch is a bust when Stiles finds out that he left his wallet at home and Scott was equally penniless, who was eating fries off Allison’s plate. Allison did offer to buy them some food, but Scott was all like, ‘no no we are not that hungry don’t bother’ in his attempt to make himself sound manly or something and totally disregarded the sounds Stiles’s stomach were making beside him.

Slightly nauseated at the simpering looks the couple were exchanging on top of his hunger, Stiles excused himself from the table saying he has to go to the library and instead headed towards the bleachers. The bleachers were empty, half the students still in their classes as they had different cafeteria timings. A sharp wind was blowing that made Stiles burrow into his favourite red sweatshirt against it as he sat on one of the lower rungs. He pulled out his headphones, put them in, and listened to music with his eyes closed.

Some 10 or 15 minute later, Stiles opened his eyes, his mind soothed by some of his slower fav songs and saw that big ass black dog before him, sitting on its rump and forelegs straight and looking at Stiles from a distance of perhaps three feet with its head cocked to the side and tongue out. Stiles stared back without blinking and just as the thought enters his mind that perhaps he should make some kind of noise to get the dog step back when it crosses the three feet left and swipes its wet tongue on Stiles’ face in one long slide.

“Wauuuughhhh!” Stiles yells in surprise, the sudden and wet intrusion making him momentarily forget his words. The dog gave him a few more licks in answer.

Stiles moved his head to the side and back to get the dog to stop licking his face with its most probably poop eating mouth and pushed on its chest, it stepped back and sat down on its rump again. Stiles wiped his face on his sweatshirt and made a mental note to throw this immediately into the wash the instant he is home. Doggie drool is not cool. Stiles drags the cloth over his face and then turns to see the dog sitting as before, head tilted and a big doggie smile wide on its face that showcased its impressing fangs rather drastically. 

The dog was big, and black like no dog that Stiles had seen before. There was something wolf-like in the features from what he could remember from the documentaries he had seen. Its ears were pointed with tufts of fur coming out of them. The dog’s body gleamed in the low light of the day and seemed to move with the wind. The way it was sitting and making no direct lunges at Stiles, Stiles assumed that it must be someone’s pet who had gone through the obedience school with great honour. 

Hesitantly Stiles put his hand out and touched the chest of the dog again. It felt very soft. Stiles then made larger sweeps on the dog’s body making the dog rumble in pleasure. Then the dog turned and lied down on the ground, Stiles hand still out. Stiles stared at the dog and then promptly got down to his knees and started to give a slight belly rub to the black dog before him who was soon yipping in happiness. Stiles too was smiling by then, the obvious enjoyment of the dog somewhat pleasant to share in.

Stiles continued rubbing his belly till his hand started feeling a bit sore. So he started to glide his hands over the shiny coat. The dog immediately stood up and began pressing against Stiles’ side to get some more of the fingers back on him. Stiles did so and then noticed the dog collar around the dog. So it really was someone’s pet, come to Stiles to get some illicit belly rubs. While he kept one hand going lazily on the side of the dog, Stiles peered at the collar and saw a simple round coin sized disk with a ‘D’ on one side and ‘Hale’ on the other. 

‘Ah’, Stiles thought, ‘this is one of the Hale’s pet wolf and dog mixes.’ The Hales were renowned for being pedigree breeders, with most of their dogs having lineage centuries old in some cases. It was a big area near the edges of Beacon Hills and the whole Hale family had been around for as long centuries as well. They also carried some weird breeds that would sometimes be caught roaming the town. Each of them were very well behaved and usually could be bribed to let touch with food and back rubs. Stiles had given a few to this brownish one, with startling blue eyes for a dog and had fed it biscuits. 

Realising that the dog was one of the Hale’s ones, Stiles felt a spike of relief. The dog would simply just return home. There was no need for Stiles to fret if the big but lovable doggie got dognabbed before it reached home. Looking at its big teeth, Stiles was sure that only a fool would attempt so. Still, he gave a few more gliding pet to the animal’s smooth hide and stood up. Stiles said, in a low voice so that no one else may hear him suddenly speaking to a freaking dog as if it were human, “See you later, D.”

The dog gave a happy and gruff bark at that, looking like it was grinning madly and then turned and trotted right across the field before melting into the trees at the edge of the field. Stiles slapped his hands, checked his watch, gave a genuine yelp and then ran to school. He was already 10 minutes late for his next class. At which, once he reached the class, he was informed that he would be staying behind for half an hour detention. Stiles felt indignant at that, for he was only playing with a dog, not shooting up heroine or something. Now he would have to walk from school again like yesterday as his Jeep was in the shop following the multiple punctures.

He felt a bit better when Scott offered to wait for him to make up for yesterday. He said OK, spent the whole of his detention doing sudoko on his phone and ran out when his 30 minutes were up and he was excused. Scott was, as per his word, waiting for him. So both went out for burgers and then Stiles got dropped at home and that night, after a meal with his dad, Stiles remembered D and his demands of belly rubs and wondered if he would return again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be long, most prob my longest fic. Unbetaed. Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments please!


End file.
